Under Those Hardened Layers of Steel
by Crystal-Lynnblud
Summary: "I've come too far; there's no way I'm giving up on him now." - Levy. *A short one-shot from Levy's perspective about the man she's been trying to figure out; Gajeel Redfox. Companion to my other story, That Beautiful, Forgiving Smile (Gajeel's perspective).


**Author's Notes: Like always, please read, rate and review. **Gajeel's perspective: That Beautiful, Forgiving Smile

* * *

When he walked into the hall, his steel-toed boots heavy against the wood flooring beneath him, I turned instinctively in my seat, greeting him with a smile I saved just for one person; Gajeel Redfox. I didn't even fight the blush spreading across my cheeks, or remember to feel self-conscious over the staring my overly-friendly greeting elicited from the rest of our guild. I didn't care, because at that moment, his responding smile and gentle touch had me forgetting my own name, let alone my surroundings or the ability to feel embarrassment. He laughed in his signature way before taking the seat next to mine. It was such a casual thing, and yet, so significant. We didn't say a word to each other; a couple of smiles and a quick pat on the head was enough to mean everything. To me, it meant _hello_. But it also meant _I've missed you_, and _I'm glad you're safe_. To me, our comfortable silence could speak volumes. They never ended in an argument, or left me feeling unsatisfied. To me, our wordless conversations never got the words wrong the way our verbal conversations tended to.

He was never very good with his words; always blurting out unnecessary, hurtful things. Often, I'd end up saying things I'd regret myself, or hearing things I'd wished I hadn't. With Gajeel, I had learned to take every cutting word, every guarded tone he threw at me and toss it all aside. They were surface words; shallow, unimportant tones. They didn't matter. I learned to listen harder; look further. And what I found, under all the misdirection, was a person so honest and sincere, so _hurt_, I couldn't help myself from looking closer still. And for all my effort, for all my tolerance and time, I got back something in return that meant more to me than I'd ever admit or thought possible.

How could I have known that my curiosity would turn into comfort? How could I have known that my frustration would dissolve into familiarity? How? Or more importantly, why? Or maybe, _when_? When did my name change from _Levy_ to _Shorty_? Or _Shrimp_? Or any of the other height-related nicknames he bestowed upon me? When I did I start liking the way those aliases sounded? When did they start feeling more natural than my own, unused name? When did his voice become something so cherished? When did his attention become something so sought after? When did the familiarity of his presence start feeling like family? When did the guild start feeling less like home whenever he wasn't around? _Home_. When did I start thinking of him as more than just a guild mate? Friend? Family member? When did our conversations first turn silent?

But all my self-reflection would have to wait; he had said something to me, and I had missed it. I asked him to repeat himself, my face reddening. He smirks the way he does when he's about to tease me, and I almost forget to feel defensive. Almost. Of course, by now I can see through his playful jabs at my height. I'm used to it, and have my own, perfectly tailored comebacks at the ready. I have him figured out; at least I think I do, until he throws me for a loop with his next comment. I stare, blinking, at his face as I let his gruff voice wash over me. My eyes widen under his steadfast gaze, and I can't help but feel, for the first time in a long time, like his prey. His comment knocked the air out of my lungs, sending me backwards to a time when he was someone I didn't yet know; someone I still had to figure out. Every time I think I'm close to understanding him, he surprises me; he proves me wrong. I calculate with what I have, but he never gives me enough; he never gives me _everything_. There's always something missing; something important, forgotten or hidden away. But with what I have, it's always _almost_ enough to decipher the enigma that is _Gajeel._ The language may be old, and the code may be off, but I've seen worse.

Okay, so I'm lying. He's the toughest, most stubborn task I've ever put my mind to solving. There were times in the beginning when I felt like giving up. But I didn't. He didn't let me. He kept surprising me; kept rewarding me for my effort. Every unguarded smile, every new emotion we'd share, was more than enough to keep me going. This man was cold and rough and violent and harsh and dark and so many other things I used to think when I'd look upon his startling face, or hear his intimidating voice. He used to be the definition of a nightmare; brutal and unrelenting. But I know, on top of the obvious, or maybe beneath, he's so much more than what he seems. Under those hardened layers of steel, lies the truth just beyond my current reach, and there's no way I'm letting that go.


End file.
